


Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Darlin'

by whatsacleverusername



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Arson, Awkward Romance, Birthday, Birthday Sex, Companionable Snark, Dirty Jokes, I can't write porn so it's just implied, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Inside jokes, Lingerie, M/M, Neck Kissing, Pet Names, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Self Confidence Issues, Social Anxiety, Surprise Kissing, Teasing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touch-Starved, being afraid of geese is completely understandable, but also touch repulsed, post-smut, pumpkin spice discourse, those are related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsacleverusername/pseuds/whatsacleverusername
Summary: Partially written as a late birthday present for a friend, partially to explore relationship dynamics, partially to spite a few anons over on Tungle.hellsite :^)
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Bookworm
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Darlin'

**Author's Note:**

> Jon can have a little Happiness and Being Okay With Physical Affection. As a treat.

“Edwin? _Edwin_.” The gentle calls prompt the inventor to groan slightly and cover his eyes with an arm.

“Wake up, darlin’,” Jonathan tries again, lightly shaking his shoulder.

“Whasit…?” Edwin asks, ever so eloquent, moving his arm just enough to look at Jonathan with one half open eye.

“Good morning,” Jonathan says, sitting on the bed next to him. “You know what today is, correct?”

“Mm…” Squinting as he looks past Jonathan at the clock- 6:15 AM, _two hours_ before he usually starts his day- Edwin snidely comments, “I know it’s much too early to be waking me up.”

“Really?” Jonathan asks. “Not even for an important day?”

“The meeting with Roman is tomorrow, Jon,” Edwin says with a yawn, beginning to put his arm back in place. He stops halfway, however, blinking and continuing, “which means that today is…”

“October 23rd,” Jonathan finishes with a crooked smirk. Gently kissing Edwin’s forehead, he adds, “happy birthday, darlin’.”

“You truly could’ve opened with that,” Edwin chuckles, catching Jonathan by hooking his arm around the other man’s neck and stealing another kiss.

Pulling away just slightly, Jonathan says, “alright, come on, get up.”

“If it’s _my_ birthday,” Edwin says with a slight pout, wrapping his other arm around Jonathan’s neck, “why must _I_ get up so early?”

Rolling his eyes, Jonathan scoffs and answers, “because I doubt you’d like a cold breakfast.”

“What if I would?” Edwin challenges playfully, kissing Jonathan’s nose.

With another scoff, Jonathan attempts to lift Edwin up, fully intending to carry him out of the room and into the kitchen-slash-dining room of the upscale suite apartment hideout- Only for the bibliophile to pull him back down, making him stumble and fall forward against Edwin’s chest. They both gasp, momentarily staring at each other, before Edwin can’t keep from giggling any more. Shaking his head, Jonathan stands up, moving Edwin’s hands from the back of his neck and gently pulling for him to sit up. Complying, but not without giving Jonathan a teasing smirk, Edwin lets him lead him off, smiling when he covers his eyes with long, spidery fingers. Using his other hand to grab Edwin’s glasses from his bedside table, Jonathan guides him to the table to sit. He removes his hand only once he’s handed him his glasses, standing back to push his chair in.

Opening his eyes, Edwin gasps at the food set before him, the assortment conjuring up memories of his childhood. A stack of four waffles topped with raspberries and powdered sugar sits on a ceramic plate, two omelettes rest in a frying pan on one side, a basket of rolls with honey and marmalade next to it on the other. What looks like tea- actual, warm, kettle-made _tea_ \- is in the mug next to the empty plate before him, steam from the warm beverage curling up to slightly cloud his glasses.

“Oh, Jon…” Edwin says, smiling fondly. “Did you make all of this?”

Taking his seat across from him, scratching his jaw in that way he does when bashful, Jonathan mumbles, “I just, uh, looked up some recipes…”

His smile growing at Jonathan’s modesty, Edwin says, “well, it’s wonderful nevertheless. Thank you, _Honigbär_.”

Nodding in reply, Jonathan settles in his spot and waits for Edwin to start eating, handing him the salt and pepper shakers on request. It isn’t until Edwin asks him if he’s hungry, after complimenting his cooking, that Jonathan remembers that he has to eat as well, at least to placate his boyfriend, giving him a sheepish smile as he takes a roll to half and spread honey over. They eat their breakfast together in contented silence- or, at least Edwin eats while Jonathan reads the newspaper, absently munching on the roll every so often and stealing fond glances at Edwin from the corner of his eye, quickly returning to the paper when he’s caught. After catching him a fifth time, Edwin waggles his eyebrows at Jonathan, the scientist hastily covering up a laugh and snort, shaking his head despite the smile he tries to hide. Grinning himself, Edwin briefly sticks his tongue out at Jonathan before taking another sip of his tea.

With a tone of mock annoyance, Jonathan asks, “are you going to finish eating or keep making faces at me all morning?”

“First you wake me up at the crack of dawn, on _my birthday_ no less,” Edwin teases, faking offense, “then you have the audacity to threaten me with starvation.”

“If you want to get to your gifts anytime soon, you may have to cut your losses,” Jonathan deadpans.

Edwin’s face immediately lights up again, that wicked smirk playing at Jonathan’s lips as his plan works, and the bibliophile drinks the last of his tea and finishes his food, grinning at his partner. Chuckling at his enthusiasm, Jonathan sets down his paper and gestures for Edwin to sit on the couch while he retrieves the hidden presents. Excitedly doing so, Edwin takes his favored side of the cushions, resting his hands in his lap as he waits with anticipation. Fortunately not for long, as Jonathan appears in his peripheral again, circling around to place three wrapped parcels and a gift bag on the wooden coffee table.

“I know there isn’t a lot-” Jonathan begins, sitting next to Edwin.

“It’s more than I asked for, dearest,” Edwin assures with a smile.

“But I tried to get what I could myself,” Jonathan continues.

“I’m certain they’re lovely gifts,” Edwin tries again.

“I couldn't find everything, and they aren’t anything spectacular-” Jonathan adds.

“ _Jonathan_ ,” Edwin interrupts, placing a hand on his knee. “It’s more than alright. Honestly.”

Willing himself not to continue apologizing- and to ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest, still not quite used to it even after five months- Jonathan turns to pick up one of the parcels to hand to Edwin with a small smile. He sets it in his lap and carefully unwraps it, Jonathan suppressing a chuckle at the unnecessary delicacy, sliding the long box out of the wrapping and placing the paper on the couch next to him.

“A new reading light?” Edwin asks.

“You mentioned your old one was busted,” Jonathan shrugs.

Giving him an appreciative smile, always happy to be reminded that Jonathan is, in fact, actually listening to him most of the time, Edwin sets the box on the wrapping paper next to him, Jonathan reaching for the next parcel.

“May I have the bag next?” Edwin asks, interest obviously piqued.

Jonathan adjusts his course to oblige, handing Edwin the brown and blue bag. Removing the tissue paper from the bag, he lifts its contents to find a box of small LED lights, finding another two stacked in the bag as well.

“For your head lamp contraption,” Jonathan says quickly, the worry of being ridiculed obvious.

“I was _just_ going to call and have more delivered,” Edwin smiles.

Giving him a small smile in reply, he reaches for a slightly odd shaped parcel, stating, “now I can’t promise one of the crows won’t try to swipe these.”

Raising curious eyebrows, Edwin takes the parcel, mildly surprised to feel it shift in his hands as he moves it to his lap. He gives Jonathan another questioning look, which only earns him a smirk, before opening it, soon discovering it’s actually two things wrapped together. A relatively large box of screws and a screwdriver.

“Is that a Torx?” Edwin asks, turning the screwdriver up to look at. Too excited to let Jonathan answer, he exclaims, “I could never find one the right size!”

“Hence why I got the screws, too,” Jonathan explains.

Making a face at Jonathan’s smart comment, Edwin takes the last parcel before Jonathan can hand it to him. He nearly drops it, surprised by its weight.

“Careful with that one,” Jonathan cautions.

His turn to roll his eyes, albeit affectionately, Edwin meticulously begins unwrapping the last present, immediately identifying it as a book. However, as green and blue paper gives way to dark brown leather and gilt on the cover, and the edge of the pages as well, Edwin gasps quietly, trying to balance his haste and care as he quickly uncovers the rest of it. His eyes widen as he reads the golden lettering; _The Pictvre of Dorian Gray_ sits at the top of the leather cover, a cascading pattern of symbols flanking the title and trailing down to a point at the bottom of the cover. A first edition by the look of it.

“Jon…” Edwin says, turning the book over, careful to use the wrapping paper as impromptu gloves. “Where did you- _How_ did you-” Recognizing the sheepish look on Jonathan’s face, he gently places the book in his lap and asks, “Jonathan?”

“I may have… Stolen that one…” Jonathan admits with humor.

“Of course you did,” Edwin teases affectionately, gently placing the book back on the table and leaning over to kiss Jonathan’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Jonathan nods and closes his eyes briefly at the kiss.

Scooching over to lean his head against Jonathan, Edwin adds, “I was right, you know. They are indeed _lovely_ gifts. Terrific, superb even. Though they cannot compare to my first birthday spent with you.”

Jonathan snorts at that, moving his arm to allow Edwin to move closer, though he keeps his arm off of him.

“Of course,” Edwin says slyly, running a finger over Jonathan’s thigh, “there’s one more thing that would make this morning perfect.”

Tensing slightly at the touch, Jonathan carefully asks, “and… What would that be?”

Bringing his finger up to trail over Jonathan’s shirt, Edwin whispers, “play me a few songs on the Steinway.”

He can’t help but giggle at the annoyed look Jonathan gives him, halfheartedly glaring at him and getting up with a slightly over dramatic sigh. Edwin clasps his hands together excitedly before delicately moving the other gifts to the table and following Jonathan to the grand piano in the corner of the sitting area. Opening the inner curtains, leaving the sheer outer ones to keep the morning sun from blinding both of them, Jonathan takes his seat on the bench and stretches his fingers, then moves them across the keys with an air of practiced grace. He only hums the first song, staying focused exclusively on the piano, still rather shy about his talent. Though with Edwin’s encouragement, he’s softly singing the next song, rising a little louder with the next, and so on and so forth. Up until Edwin queues up a song from the speaker on the shelf, grabbing Jonathan’s hand and pulling him up to dance around the room with him. That, of course, also takes some gentle goading, but sure enough they’re waltzing around the room, Jonathan for once relaxed with such extensive physical contact, an arm around Edwin’s waist and a hand over his as he guides the less than coordinated inventor. However, as they spin once again, he notices the clock and stops, nearly tripping both of them.

“We have to go,” Jonathan says without any further explanation.

“Wh- What?” Edwin asks, his only answer being Jonathan rushing past him to gather a few things from one of the smaller chairs.

“Get dressed or we’ll miss it,” Jonathan urges, locating his shoes and sitting to put them on.

Confused but deciding to listen, Edwin half hurries to change out of his pajamas into an all purpose outfit of sorts, not quite sure what he’s dressing for. Besides, he knows Jonathan enjoys seeing him wear the pale blue dress shirt with the aegean scarf and brown blazer more than he’ll admit. Additionally, the brown slacks and dress shoes are always a safe bet.

Meeting Jonathan in the hall in front of the elevator, watching him pull on a coat on top of a flannel and jacket with a slight smile, he gives the taller man a questioning look as they enter the elevator. Other than pressing the button for the garage floor and a teasing side eye, Jonathan offers him no answers. It isn’t until they make it to Jonathan’s old rusted up ‘80 Mercedes that Edwin speaks up again.

“May I drive?” he asks.

Jonathan, already halfway into the driver’s seat, pauses and looks at him for a moment before stating, “you don’t even have your license.”

“Please?” Edwin tries again, batting his lashes.

Jonathan looks at the steering wheel, the keys in his hand, then to Edwin again before sighing and saying, “fine.”

Bouncing on his heels, Edwin excitedly takes the keys from Jonathan and switches sides of the car with him, hurriedly getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car.

Sitting in the passenger’s seat next to him, Jonathan fixes his glasses as he says, “remember, you shift it into gear first and _then_ -”

The rest of his instructions are cut off in a startled expletive as the car races forward, Edwin somehow managing to not hit any other vehicles as he speeds out of the garage and onto the street, Jonathan gripping the dashboard and handle for dear life. He can only silently hope they live long enough to see the rest of what he has planned as Edwin zooms through traffic like an excited child riding a bike for the first time.

Miraculously, they survive the drive, if only because Jonathan directed Edwin down the least busy roads to their destination. Hell, they even made it through lunch at a cafe- that Edwin insisted he pay for, much to Jonathan’s displeasure- and to Robinson park, deciding to cut across and walk around the Diamond and Fashion districts for a time. Sure, the detour is unnecessary, but the glimmer in Edwin’s eyes as he looks at the autumnal scenery, telling him the name of every tree and plant and animal they pass by, is more than worth the extra time.

“That one’s a boxelder maple,” Edwin says, pointing up at a tree with striking red and orange leaves.

“They make syrup from the sap of those, right?” Jonathan asks, always happy to play dumb if only to hear the darling man talk.

“Not that kind, no,” Edwin explains. “Black, red, and- unsurprisingly- sugar maples are used to make syrup, given the high sugar content in their sap.”

“Oh yeah?” Jonathan asks. “Then why does that plaque say they do?”

“Because not everyone bothers to fact check,” Edwin says with disdain, glancing at the plaque at the base of a tree.

Chuckling quietly, Jonathan suggests, “maybe you should write the DPR a strongly worded letter.”

“You know, maybe I will,” Edwin says in mock annoyance. “False information is hardly a laughing matter, Jonathan.”

“Might as well see if you can start a petition,” Jonathan furthers. “You’d probably get Dr. Isley on board. Wouldn’t hurt to shoot old Louis a letter either.”

“Not that he’d _reply_ ,” Edwin states, a hint of serious bitterness underneath his casual tone.

Catching it nevertheless, Jonathan quickly redirects his attention, asking, “the little helicopters are the seeds, right?”

“‘Helicopters?’” Edwin asks.

“Yeah, uh…” Stooping briefly to pick up one of the odd things, Jonathan tosses it in the air, gesturing as it slowly spirals to the ground again, saying, “that’s what I’ve always heard them called, at least.”

“Oh, that’s adorable,” Edwin says genuinely, smiling as they watch it go. “Yes, those are the seeds. The hope is they’ll be blown away and spread via the wind.”

With a small sound of acknowledgement, Jonathan comments, “all I ever knew about them is they were entertaining to watch.”

Proving his point, he grabs a handful from the ground, holding them up above Edwin and letting them all spiral down onto his head. Edwin laughs and brushes them out of his hair, standing up on his tiptoes to put a few in Jonathan’s instead. The taller man chuckles again and picks one out, tossing it behind them as they begin down the path once more. He can’t help but smile as the inventor gently squeezes his hand as they pass by the pond, stopping to look at the leaves floating on the still, glass like water.

“It’s beauteous, isn’t it?” Edwin asks, moving closer to the scientist beside him.

Jonathan nods, moving his hand to lace their fingers together. He debates pulling him closer, but finds himself unable to do much more than turn his head to watch Edwin fondly.

“It looks as if it's all one extensive painting,” Edwin continues. “Like a Monet or Doughty or-”

“Shit!” Jonathan suddenly exclaims, nearly jumping out of his skin and pulling Edwin away from the pond.

He doesn’t have time to ask what’s wrong before something hisses at them, turning to see a goose making its way up the bank in their direction, Jonathan incessantly pulling Edwin away from it. While Edwin is curious as to why a migratory animal is still in Gotham this late in the year, he forgoes pondering instead to shoo the goose away, letting Jonathan hide behind him while he scares the waterfowl off. It takes a few moments, the bird as stubborn as the man cowering from it, but the goose finally retreats back into the pond, Edwin taking Jonathan’s hand again to lead him away. He refrains from laughing as Jonathan fearfully glances back over his shoulder more than once, scolding himself and frowning slightly for briefly overlooking his boyfriend’s perfectly good reason for such a reaction.

Gently squeezing his hand, Edwin says, “let's get to the Diamond before it comes back with friends, eh?” 

Jonathan shudders at the thought and nods, subconsciously picking up his pace somewhat. He doesn’t let go of Edwin’s hand all the way through the park, only then realizing he’s acting foolish. He’s trying to make this day as special for Edwin as possible, not act like a frightened child and force him to chase away every little thing that makes him jump. Jonathan is absolutely certain he’s already ruined everything, giving Edwin another reason to worry for him, distracting him from enjoying the day-

And yet, he’s genuinely relieved when the bibliophile returns to telling him historical trivia about their surroundings, recounting the archaic use butchers made of high heels as they pass a window of them heading into the Fashion district. Proving his internal statement true, Jonathan happily listens to Edwin while they walk around for a couple hours, effectively distracted from his previous fretting, every so often asking a few questions to keep him going. He has to remind himself to keep track of the time as he lets Edwin lead him up and down the streets, scowling at his watch as it nears time to turn around. The older man doesn’t seem terribly torn up about it, however, teasingly suggesting a race back to the car he knows neither of them are interested in going through with. Though Jonathan does hurry to reach the driver’s side door before Edwin, feeling his heart skip a few beats and his hair gray further at the mere thought of riding passenger to the bibliophile’s particular brand of reckless driving again so soon.

“ _I’m_ driving this time,” the scientist insists, not entirely playing as he bars Edwin’s way.

Making a face at him, Edwin chuckles and concedes, walking around to the other side and getting in just as Jonathan does. Curling one side of his lip as he looks at him sideways, Jonathan smiles slightly as Edwin giggles at his expression, turning the ignition and looking back to reverse out of the parking space. Seeing his opportunity, Edwin steals a kiss just as Jonathan puts his arm behind his seat, making the scientist briefly freeze. His cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink, Jonathan mutters something and quickly turns back around, Edwin smirking triumphantly at the other man’s endearingly flustered reaction. Wiggling his eyebrows as Jonathan glances over once more while shifting gears, laughing again when he quickly looks away, Edwin turns his attention to the scenery going past outside the window, trying to guess where they’re headed next. That’s part of the appeal of surprises, after all.

Refilling his glass with red wine, Jonathan hands it back to Edwin with a small smile, taking a small sip of his own water and cutting another miniscule piece off his hardly touched steak. Despite being raised by gentry and having at least decent manners- though, according to some, he rarely uses them- he doesn’t trust himself to speak to anyone in such an upscale restaurant, and certainly doesn’t need any inebriation convincing him otherwise. He only chose the location because of it being one of Edwin’s favorites. Otherwise, he’d never set foot in a place like this.

As their waiter returns, briefly casting a disdainful look at Jonathan’s still full plate and making the scientist suppress a shudder, Edwin thanks him for his service and asks him for the dessert menu, Jonathan catching the inventor subtly passing the man a 50 as he hands it over. For the umpteenth time this night, Jonathan stifles a sigh; even though he’d managed to save up enough money to pay for Edwin for once instead of the other way around, he’s still failed to cover _all_ of the expenses, overlooking the fact that one of them is an infamous, extremely recognizable criminal in and out of costume. That shouldn’t be Edwin’s problem to take care of. No one even knows who he is outside of the more illegal side of business.

Drawing his attention away from his less than happy thoughts, Edwin smiles after their waiter and teases, “if I didn’t know any better, _Liebling_ , I’d think you were trying to inveigle me.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Jonathan asks absently, picking up the menu without actually looking over its contents.

“Well, with the gifts, the walk, and the dinner, what else is a man to think?” Edwin asks. Lowering his voice to a faithful mimicry of a spy imparting secrets, he playfully adds, “unless… You’re plotting to _kill_ me.”

Unable to keep from barking out a laugh, the sudden feeling of the entire room turning to stare at him makes Jonathan sink in his seat, not interested in glancing around to see he’s fortunately mistaken. Though the motion was slight, Edwin catches Jonathan shrinking back, hiding his frown by taking a drink of his wine. He knows full well Jonathan feels stuck in his own skin in a place like this, beyond grateful he put aside his own discomfort to bring him here for dinner, but it’s painfully obvious the younger man doesn’t take Edwin’s gratitude to heart. He can tell from the way Jonathan had reluctantly let him pay for their lunch, insisting afterwards that he pay for dinner and again as soon as they arrived, that his boyfriend is very worried he isn’t doing enough.

Thinking for a moment, Edwin playfully tips the end of the menu down with a finger, Jonathan quirking a brow but letting him snatch the list from his hand without any resistance.

“Which do you think sounds better?” Edwin asks conversationally as he skims over the items. “The tiramisu or pumpkin spice and chocolate cake?”

“You could always get both if you’d like,” Jonathan answers, poking at his steak.

Refraining from rolling his eyes, Edwin says, “allow me to rephrase my question; which would _you_ eat with me?”

Both of his eyebrows raising in mild surprise, Jonathan makes a thoughtful face before saying, “you know I detest pumpkin spice outside of pie and soup, _where it belongs_.”

“Right, right, of course,” Edwin says with a chuckle. “Silly me.”

Scoffing at Edwin’s teasing, Jonathan looks away again as the other man waves to their waiter and makes his order, only nodding when asked if he’s finished with his plate. He doesn’t look up until their dessert arrives, continuing to nonverbally answer whenever Edwin asks him something, the inventor knowing better than to take offense to the avoidant behaviour. Finishing his glass of wine, declining when Jonathan offers to pour him a third, Edwin instead hands him a spoon, moving the dish to the center of the table despite knowing full well he could reach it where it was. Much to his delight, he doesn’t have to remind Jonathan he had ordered it for both of them more than once, letting him teasingly block the other man’s spoon a few times, surprised when he does the same in return. Smirking at him, Edwin reaches his leg under the table to brush his shoe against Jonathan’s ankle, laughing quietly when he quickly glances down at the contact. Narrowing his eyes, Jonathan makes a slight face back at him, pointedly blocking his spoon when he goes to retrieve more of the dessert.

“ _Meine alberne Liebe_ ,” Edwin says fondly, chuckling more as he surrenders.

Turning to thank their waiter when he hands him the check, the inventor procures his wallet and goes to retrieve something from it- Only to frown and open it to look.

Glancing at the waiter still standing there, Jonathan quietly asks, “is… Everything alright?”

“I don’t have my card,” Edwin answers, smiling apologetically to the third party.

Almost immediately catching on to what he’s doing, but appreciating it nonetheless, Jonathan says, “it’s alright, I’ve got it.”

Doing his best to ignore the obvious surprise in the waiter’s face, Jonathan hands him a few bills, moving his attention back to Edwin as soon as he can.

“Thank you, dearest,” Edwin says with a smile, gently touching Jonathan’s hand.

“I told you I would pay,” Jonathan replies, hiding his bashfulness under a dismissive tone.

“I appreciate it nevertheless,” Edwin insists.

Rolling his eyes, Jonathan asks, “what would you like to do now?”

“Oh, _well_ …” Edwin says mischievously. “A new ‘bookstore’ has opened up on Fifth and Main, and evidently they deal in more falsehoods than even _Roman_. They tried to tell Lombardi an obviously crude mockup of _the Great Gatsby_ was a third edition, not even bothering to match the-”

His turn to smirk, especially when Edwin stops mid sentence in surprise, Jonathan reaches into his jacket and partially pulls out a glimpse of burlap and green glass, just enough for Edwin to recognize them as their respective headgears.

“I had a feeling,” Jonathan says, answering Edwin’s silent question. Glancing over his shoulder, he stowes them back in place, standing up and quietly saying, “the rest is in the trunk. We can raise hell and be home in time to feed the crows.”

Smiling giddily, Edwin quickly gets up as well, struggling to maintain his excitement as he follows Jonathan out of the restaurant.

Gently setting the bag down and helping Edwin up over the ledge, Jonathan stands with him as they watch the bootleg bookstore go up in flames, the shorter man leaning his head against his arm and smiling. Glancing down at him, Jonathan allows a contented smile to pass over his face, hidden under his mask, moving his arm just slightly so as to grab Edwin’s hand and gently squeeze it before separating. Standing up on his tiptoes, Edwin kisses Jonathan’s covered cheek and picks up the bag, checking its contents. They recovered the few genuine, though damaged by negligence, pieces before destroying the emporium for fancied up printer paper. While he too scoffed at the terrible attempts of fakes, Jonathan found it far more entertaining- humorous, even, to listen to Edwin rant about the multitude of offendable shortcomings; how they didn’t even try, how the pages were barely connected to the spine, how the covers were naught but felt and cardboard- Jonathan had to drag Edwin out of the rabbit hole and away from the building before they spent the whole night there, ultimately coaxing him away with a promise of one final gift, _once they get home_.

Nodding in approval, finishing his mental list of necessary repairs, Edwin picks the bag up and begins heading for the car, only to be stopped by Jonathan holding his hand out.

“Let me carry it.” While phrased as an order, it’s meant as an offer, with the intention to be helpful.

Smiling, appreciatively, Edwin shakes his head and says, “oh, no thank you, dearest, it’s quite alr-”

Silenced by a look from Jonathan, wordlessly communicating his firm insistence, Edwin fondly rolls his eyes and allows the taller man to take the bag. Taking advantage of the opportunity by linking his arm with Jonathan’s as they walk the short distance to the old Mercedes, the inventor retrieves a signal blocker from his inside breast pocket, inhibiting any such means of tracking them and guaranteeing an unhindered escape. The last thing the night needs is a visit from the Dark Knight or one of his broodlings.

Opening Edwin’s door for him again, Jonathan waits for him to get situated before handing him the bag, knowing he’d much rather hold it and its delicate cargo in his lap than let it sit in the backseat unsecured. Not that Jonathan doesn’t agree with the cautionary treatment of the tomes. Removing his mask as he steps around to the driver’s seat, having forgone his hat for the night, Jonathan instead tosses that to the backseat, grumbling something about his contacts without the typical malice. Reaching across to open the glove box, he retrieves the keys and puts them in the ignition, hesitating to turn them when he catches Edwin watching him with a smile.

“What?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing…” Edwin fibs, leaning forward.

A part of Jonathan’s mind still instinctually doesn’t trust such coyness, telling him to lean away and out of reach, but he’s gotten better at silencing it over the months. At least when it’s Edwin. He still flinches at times when touched unexpectedly, but that too is getting easier to control, his shoulders only briefly hunching as Edwin hooks a finger into his costume’s noose and pulls him closer. Granted he almost immediately melts as he’s kissed, eyes fluttering closed and hand gently touching Edwin’s, but that simply helps ease the reaction. Not so much the persistent quickening of his breath and warming of his cold heart each time their lips meet. Cupping Jonathan’s scarred, hollow cheek, Edwin slightly nips his bottom lip, making him scoff slightly, before pulling away. He brushes a loose piece of hair that had escaped from Jonathan’s bun behind his ear, his smile brightening as that reveals the almost elvish point to it.

“Thank you,” Edwin says, giving him a smaller, shorter kiss. “Tonight was truly wonderful.”

Jonathan feels obliged to make a teasing remark like those in the romantic comedies Edwin sometimes has them watch, to crack a wry smirk and remind him the night isn’t over yet, but he simply nods and starts the car, staring straight ahead.

Evidently under the same impression, Edwin playfully adds, “though I suppose I should have left that until _after_ you’re through with me.”

Raising an eyebrow as he turns onto the road, Jonathan shakes his head when Edwin only laughs in reply, purposefully accelerating faster than necessary and making the older man jump. Jonathan taking his turn to chuckle darkly, Edwin huffs overdramatically but otherwise doesn’t object to the wild getaway driving, rather smiling as he watches the city fly past through the window once more.

Once they get home, Edwin sets the recovered books on the kitchenette table before getting ready for a shower, kissing Jonathan as he passes him. Waiting until he hears the water, Jonathan makes his way into the second bedroom that hasn’t been used in months, putting things in order for his final surprise of the evening. Fixing the skirt of his gown over the stockings, Jonathan briefly second guesses himself, genuinely having to wonder if he’s forcing himself to do something in the hopes of pleasing Edwin. He _had_ scoffed when Edwin bought him the lingerie, following a story involving Jonathan masquerading as a woman for a disguise, prompted by one Ms. Kyle making a related, teasing comment on his more feminine features. The inventor’s wishful excitement was obvious as he presented it, saying he hoped he'd use it for the right occasion. If ever there was a more _right occasion_ … Fidgeting with the gown once more, he decides that it’ll at least be interesting for himself as well, always willing to surprise Edwin with new or odd experiences and see how he reacts, intimate or otherwise.

The sound of the shower turning off drawing him from his thoughts, Jonathan listens further for the bathroom door to open, hand resting on the doorknob as he waits. As soon as he hears his cue, he quietly steps out of the door, the opposite entrance to the bathroom framing Edwin, suddenly frozen in place, perfectly. Flashing Jonathan that shocked look he loves so much, Edwin blinks a few times, his cheeks flushing and eyebrows threatening to disappear into his hairline. Allowing himself a slight smirk at the reaction, convincing himself to let it boost his confidence- Lord knows he could use it- Jonathan remains silent and still in his place, studying Edwin as he does the same.

Chuckling when Edwin tries to stammer something out, Jonathan slyly drawls, “happy birthday, darlin’.”

With another thorough, appreciative look over Jonathan’s apparel, Edwin mumbles, “is this a dream…?”

“Not in the unconscious sense, no,” Jonathan answers slyly.

Realizing he’d thought aloud, Edwin’s cheeks redden all the more as he bashfully turns away, only to look up again when Jonathan takes a few steps closer. Any hesitation far gone by now, Jonathan chuckles again and, admittedly copying his partner, rests his forearms atop the other’s shoulders, lacing his own fingers together behind his neck.

Though it takes him a moment, Edwin gets over his shock enough to sarcastically ask, “I don’t suppose you’d even let me top tonight?”

Scoffing, Jonathan says, “don’t push your luck, horndog.”

“Since you’re already putting out,” Edwin adds.

Rolling his eyes, Jonathan removes his arms and gently pushes Edwin forward, saying, “keep it up and you can forget about it.”

“You’re _unbearably_ cruel,” Edwin says with a faux pout.

“And you’re a satyromaniac,” Jonathan counters, equally teasing.

Smirking, Edwin grabs Jonathan’s hand and pulls him towards their bedroom with obvious excitement, the latter smirking slightly as he marks the not-quite-experiment a success. So long as he’s not required to do this more than once a year.

Rolling off and letting himself collapse on his back against the sheets, Jonathan stifles his panting as he catches his breath again, staring unseeing at the ceiling. While Edwin’s tired yet satisfied expression confirms it was worth indulging further than usual in his more obscene druthers, of which there are- surprisingly- plenty to choose from, it’s undeniable that he himself is equally if not more exhausted. He only moves again when he feels the bed’s other occupant stir next to him, sluggishly closing the distance between them to reach an arm across his bare stomach. Jonathan’s hand instinctively moves to remove his arm, but stops when he realizes, for once, the touch doesn’t bother him. He rests his hand over Edwin’s before he knows what he’s doing, moving his other arm to let the rosy haired inventor curl up next to him, resting his head on his shoulder and kissing his neck, making Jonathan’s eyes flutter close momentarily. Edwin sighs against his hot skin, Jonathan shuddering but once again not pushing him away like usual. 

The sensation of Edwin being this close, close enough to feel the breath in his lungs and his heart in his chest, the inventor no doubt able to feel his own as well, is… Oddly comforting. Welcome even, despite the repulsion he felt towards such intimacies most of his life. Sure, it’s hypocritical, given this isn’t the first time he and Edwin had done it, and far from his first in general, but… That’s different. _This_ is different now, too. This is… Vulnerable. But safe. Turning his head just enough to look at his boyfriend, but not enough to disturb him, Jonathan allows a small smile to grace his scarred lips as he studies his face- as best he can without his glasses, at least. He can certainly see enough to gently brush the inventor's sweat soaked hair away and kiss his forehead.

Nuzzling against Jonathan and holding him closer, Edwin mumbles, “love you.”

“I…” For the first time in the five months that they’d been together, Jonathan manages to whisper back, “I love you, too.”

Jonathan feels Edwin smile against his neck and sigh happily, letting his eyes droop closed. Turning back to look up at the ceiling, Jonathan lets the smile add to his own, gently readjusting his arm to bring Edwin that littlest bit closer, shutting his eyes as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Top/bottom discourse is dumb, the significance differs from couple to couple, fictional and real. Don't clown.


End file.
